When a designer's son gets married, nothing can be accidental. At the Rosewood Miramar Beach in Montecito, we built a wedding that looked like it had always existed — pure white, minimal, breathtaking in its restraint. What no one saw was the wall we constructed from scratch, moldings crafted to match the existing architecture of the ballroom exactly, so that a towering cascade of white florals could rise floor to ceiling without interruption. A black line-drawn butterfly pattern on the dance floor was the only whisper of contrast. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead. The tables were white. The chairs were white. The flowers were white. The bride's train swept across all of it. Effortless is the hardest thing to make. This room took everything we had.